


Tread Lightly

by Silverblind



Series: A Different Path [1]
Category: Dishonored (Video Game)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-30
Updated: 2014-08-30
Packaged: 2018-02-15 11:33:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2227485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverblind/pseuds/Silverblind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They had been pushed together by forces they did not understand. Then there were secrets to keep, choices to make, and they both lost everything in the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Breaking In

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place 10 years before the events of Dishonored. AU: Daud is Emily's father.

Dunwall Tower looked as austere at it ever had, especially up close. Although its windows shimmered in the light of the moon, its dark stones and severe angles did not contribute to making the Tower any more welcoming.

Security was lighter than what Daud would have expected, but after all, why would it have been otherwise? The Empire had been at peace for years, and the Empress was beloved amongst smallfolk and nobility alike – although it was not the case for Daud’s target, an advisor to her Majesty. Daud slipped inside the walls easily, first climbing the water lock before hiding in the shadows of the courtyard. With a well-placed blink or two, he reached a ledge, where he pushed open a shuttered window, disappearing inside the Tower before any of the guards in the courtyard even knew someone was lurking about.

At 32, Daud looked far older than he was, aged too young by harsh training and difficult choices, although the Knife of Dunwall cared little for his appearance. A scar ran from his temple to the corner of his mouth on the right side of his face, a reminder of days long since passed, and his short brown hair were already threaded with grey. His weathered face and hard black eyes did nothing to make him seem younger.

The guards patrolling the Tower’s halls were more bored than vigilant, and Daud flew above them, from ledge to ledge to chandelier, without difficulty. He had heard rumours of the Royal Physician developing new technologies that would make intrusions such as his harder than they already were, and Daud was grateful they had not yet been perfected.

As this thought crossed his mind, he blinked, although he must have miscalculated, for his fingers slipped on the edge of the chandelier he had been aiming for, sending him plummeting to the carpeted floor. He landed and rolled without a sound, quickly activating his Void Gaze power. A guard was rounding the corner, leaving him no time to blink away. His eyes darted to the side, revealing a seemingly unlocked door. His Void Gaze revealing the room to be empty, he quickly slipped inside, silently closing the door behind him just as the guard arrived in the hallway. The sound of nonchalant whistling reached his ears through the thick wood, coming closer and closer before the guard seemingly settled on the other side of the door he had just closed. Daud could not contain a quiet groan. There would be no leaving this room the same way he had come.

Turning away from the door, he scanned the darkened room, a smirk tugging at his lips as he realized it to be filled with valuables. Sweeping a few coins from where they rested on a low table before the hearth, he tucked them away into the pouch at his waist, doing the same with a rather ugly wolfhound statue he was sure no one would miss, and a few medals that lay on a nearby dresser. He could fence the goods later.

Once again activating his Void Gaze, he saw with irritation that the soldier was still guarding the way to the corridor. However, there was another door on the other side of the room, and the power revealed someone to be sleeping in the next room, alone. It actually seemed to be a shortcut to the advisor’s apartments. Excellent. Daud approached the door, carefully turning the handle. Locked. It was little trouble for Daud to pick the lock, and as he pushed the door open he entered a chamber of pure white marble. It was rather bare, having for only furniture a desk next to the grand window, a few armchairs positioned before the hearth and a four-poster bed pushed against the middle of the far wall. A folding-screen revealed the occupant of the room to be a woman, a rich, heavy dress having been negligently thrown over the screen to be collected later by the servants. Daud stepped further into the room, pocketing valuables as he came across them. As he slid past the bed, a sound he had not heard in many years caught his ear. He had collected enough of them in his travels through the Isles to know exactly what he was hearing.

The peculiar singing of the bone charm made the Outsider’s mark on the back of his hand pulse with longing, and he could almost feel the pull of the artifact as, for the first time, he looked at the form laying curled up on the bed.

Daud had seen many strange things in his travels. He had seen whales and witches and creatures no other humans had ever set eyes upon. He had walked the streets of ruined city on the Pandyssian coast, and had been marked by the Outsider himself – but never would Daud, the Knife of Dunwall, have thought that he would one day be standing before the Empress of the Isles as she slept in her bed.

She must have felt his eyes on her, or maybe the insistent singing of the bone charm under her pillow disturbed her slumber, for her eyes fluttered open, and she sat up with a gasp, not allowing Daud the time to hide, so suddenly did she wake. She clutched the crisp white sheet that had been covering her to her chest as she stared at him, standing at the foot of her bed, and he did the same as he wracked his brain for a solution. He was not here for her, and even then he doubted he could ever harm her, the Empress, beloved of the people. She had done more for the needy in her short reign than all of her predecessors put together, and he respected her for that, him that crawled daily through the filth that were Dunwall’s poorest districts. And so, although he did not want to harm her, he would have no choice but to use a sleep dart on her. He flexed his fingers, ready to shoot as the crossbow at his wrist spun quietly into place –

“I know you.”

She had whispered, and he thought that, as heavy as the silence of the room was, speaking any louder would have seemed almost obscene. He did not answer.

“You’re Daud. The assassin.”

He stayed silent.

“Are you here for me?”

Daud was surprised to hear that she did not sound frightened, and he allowed himself to answer.

“No.”

“Then who?”

This time he was silent again, and despite this she seemed to be comforted by the assurance that she was not his target. She lowered the sheet she had until then been holding before her, revealing a shift of white silk. Daud almost let his eyes wander, but he mastered himself, instead focusing on her pale green eyes. They were silent for half a heartbeat before he spoke:

“Aren’t you going to call your bodyguard?” he asked, and he could see her eyes flit to the ornate rope next to her bed that he knew rang a bell in the Lord Protector’s chambers down the hall. Her eyes settled back on him quickly, and a smile formed on her lips.

“You already said you were not here for me,” she said. “And your reputation precedes you. I know that, should I decide to pull this rope, I would be dead before Corvo even jumped from his bed. I will not call him. He cannot stop you.”

_Not dead,_ he almost wanted to say, but he held back. Better let her believe she should fear him. He stepped away from the foot of the bed, prowling closer to the Empress.

“It may be so,” he breathed, “but it may be that you do not wish for him to see – _this?_ ”

Lunging forward, Daud swept the bone charm from under her pillow, and she gasped, grasping his free hand as he extended the charm behind him and out of her reach. The clean smell of her skin and her grip on his weathered leather glove made something stir inside him, but he paid it little heed.

“It would be unseemly for the Empress of the Isles – “

“Daud!”

“– to be discovered with an object of heresy.”

“Daud, I – “

Shaking free of her hold, he pulled the glove off his left hand, displaying to her his mark. She was suddenly silent, her hand flying to cover her mouth, a quiet _Oh_ all he heard from her. There was wonder in her eyes, but also, he could see with a hint of perverted satisfaction, a bit of fear now.

“Your secret is safe with me, Your Majesty,” he said, “the Outsider is a bastard, why anyone would willingly worship him is beyond me, but – “

His voice trailed off as her fingers left her mouth to trace the brand on his hand, the mark stirring at her touch, a blue glow following her fingers as they trailed over every line they could find. The assassin felt a shudder course through him, and it seemed to him he could hear the faint echo of the Outsider’s laugh, far, far away.

“The Overseers are wrong,” he heard the Empress say. She was looking back at him now, the fear in her eyes gone, replaced by something he, too, felt boiling inside himself, although he did not want to admit to what it was. “Magic is not destroying our civilization. Magic is what brought us upon this Earth. It is the beginning and the end of all things. The Outsider watches us all, and we are but playthings.”

_There is more truth in that than she knows_ , Daud thought, but as he was about to speak she curled her fingers around his, bringing his hand to her mouth and reverently kissing the brand etched into his flesh. He felt the symbol shudder as if alive at the touch of her lips, burning and singing, spreading a foreign warmth from the tip of the assassin’s fingers to his chest. The pulse of the bone charm in his hand seemed louder and stronger than before.

As the Empress worshipfully kissed the mark again, he broke from her grip, allowing his thumb to brush over her lips for half a moment before he cupped her cheek, and she shivered at the touch of his callused fingertips. He leaned forward, and felt himself smile as he heard her sigh, her eyes fluttering shut. Daud was not a vain man, but he knew that his scar did not make him especially pleasant to behold. To elicit such a reaction from the most powerful woman in the Empire was, however, a pleasure he would allow himself to remember later. Stopping but a hair’s breadth away from her lips, he pressed the bone charm into the palm of the hand she had let fall into her lap.

“Keep it hidden,” he whispered quietly, and as she leaned forward to close the distance between them he moved away, drawing a quiet groan of protest from her throat.

He did not allow himself to stay a moment longer, slipping out the room even as his brand pulled painfully at his blood toward the lonely figure that sat still in the bed, staring after him. It had taken him all of his willpower to not give in to the primal need toward which the mark seemed so intent on pushing them both. He wondered what the Outsider wanted with him now.

Before the end of the night, the advisor had met his end, and Daud had slipped back out of Dunwall Tower like a ghost, taking care to avoid the Empress’ chambers as he left. This did nothing, however, to ease the memory of her lips on his skin, and the singing of his blood as the mark burned and pulsed still with every hour that went by.


	2. A Will of Their Own

He had tried to ignore it.

He had drunk himself into a stupor twice, and had trained and trained until he bled to try and ignore the pulsing mark on the back of his hand, calling him to a place he did not want to go back to.

But still it sang to him, and he knew the Outsider took great pleasure in tormenting him with thoughts and dreams of her every night and every hour. The Outsider, who had left him to his own devices for _years_ , suddenly came to haunt his dreams again with visions of the Empress? He would have thought it absurd had he not woken every morning with the memory of her still painfully fresh in his mind.

Barely a week crawled by before Daud was in Dunwall Tower again.

The security had been reinforced since his last visit due to his assassination of the advisor, but it was still easy for him to slip inside. He ran and jumped and crawled as if in a daze, only focused on reaching his goal as the brand on his hand howled and laughed and screamed, the eyes of the Outsider flashing before his eyes as he climbed. The moon was full.

Jessamine was waiting, awake and sitting straight in her bed when he entered her chambers. Her hair tumbled over her shoulders, black as coal against the white of the marble wall and the satin sheets of her bed.

“He told me you would be coming,” she whispered as he approached slowly. “The Outsider.”

“Do not speak his name,” he growled, and if she was shocked at his lack of decorum, she did not show it.

She wore the same shift of white silk she had when they had first met. Daud ripped off his gloves as he came to her bedside, and it seemed to him that the mark on his hand blazed as it never had before. The bastard was mocking him. He had to be. Just as the thought crossed his mind, the singing of the bone charm she had placed back under her pillow seemed to grow louder.

But all thoughts of the whale god quickly left his mind as the Empress of the Isles, Jessamine Kaldwin, opened her arms to him.

He was quick to meet her lips for the kiss he had denied her and himself that first night, barely allowing her time to whisper his name before he ran his marked hand through her hair, tugging at the strands caught between his fingers as he pressed into her, putting a knee up on the bed and drawing her to him with a hand on her waist. He bit her lower lip, perhaps harder than he ought to, but she arched into him all the same, gasping as he attacked her neck with teeth and tongue. He had known his fair share of women, all across the Isles, and he could tell by the way she moved that he was not her first. Her hands gripped at his jacket, begging for a bit of skin to touch and sighing into his hair while he kissed the small sliver of collarbone her shift allowed him to reach. He had to muster every bit of self-control that still remained inside him to not rip the damn thing off her. Her hands grew more insistent, fumbling with the belt that held his jacket closed, and he reluctantly took his hands off her for a moment, shedding both jacket and shirt, letting his equipment clatter to the floor before pressing his lips to hers once more as her hands greedily roamed over his now exposed chest and back. He felt her fingers linger upon his scars.

"Is this what you want?" he growled into her neck, his hands smoothing down her back before finding the curve of her arse. Her moans were her only answer, but it was not enough for Daud. "Is it?"

"Yes," she breathed, and her hands found his shoulders, pulling him impossibly closer. "Yes."

Daud wondered if he had gone mad as he bent over her, all teeth and tongue and nails as he slowly stripped her of the silken barrier that prevented him from seeing all of her. She slipped her arms from the sleeves before placing her fingers at the nape of his neck, kissing his brow as every inch of her skin was revealed to him. Where his skin had been weathered and toughened by years of hard work under the unforgiving sun of the Southern Isles and the winds of Gristol, her skin was flawless and pale, his fingers running easily on the expanse of her stomach without meeting any scar or scrape. He would have marveled at it had he been anyone else.

Daud remembered the sleepless nights he had spent since their first meeting, knowing that, should he close his eyes, he would be tormented with images of her. This would be his release. This would quench his thirst. This would chase her from his mind, and he never would have to think about her again.

He did not know what the Outsider wanted, but deep inside he knew he would not let him forget about her so easily.

When finally the shift was off her, he kissed his way back up her legs, skipping the piece of fabric that still covered the apex of her thighs, meeting her lips for a searing kiss as his hands slowly ran up her sides to her breasts. He felt her moan against his lips as his thumbs brushed her nipples, and his mouth slowly slipped between her breasts, one hand leaving her nipple to smooth over her thigh but his mouth taking its place quickly. She shuddered in the most delicious way, and as his eyes rose to meet her gaze he saw the ornate rope at the side of her bed. Even as his mouth travelled to the Empress’ other breast, he wondered what would happen should either of them pull this rope. Of course, the Lord Protector would come running, with guards hot on his heels, and they would discover their Empress moaning and writhing under the caresses of an assassin, a lowlife that should never have been allowed to even set foot in the Tower, let alone set eyes on Jessamine Kaldwin. He smirked at the idea, his lips curling on her skin. He was sure that neither of them wanted this to happen, but the thought entertained him all the same.

Suddenly her hands were on his shoulders, feather-light touches that made him look up, and he understood what she wanted without needing for her to speak. Quickly kicking off his heavy boots, he laid down next to her on the bed that seemed large enough for eight, and she looked half a goddess as she sat up next to him, the small smile that graced her lips eliciting a throaty chuckle from him. She leaned down for a kiss, a thumb brushing the corner of his mouth while her other hand smoothed down his chest to his stomach before lightly tracing the edge of his trousers, her fingers hovering tantalizingly over the heavy buckle of his belt. He growled into her mouth at her teasing, bringing up a roughened hand to unbuckle the belt himself, but her fingers curled around his, bringing his hand back down on the bed and keeping it there. He could have easily freed himself from her grip, but he allowed her to do as she wanted as she traced the pattern etched into the leather of his belt for long time before finally loosening the buckle, slowly kissing her way down his chest, tugging the trousers off him as he had done with her shift. His hands clenched into fists in the pure white satin sheets, trying to muster as much control as he could, but when she slithered back toward his face, kissing his navel as she reached it, he could not contain himself.

With a feral snarl, Daud leapt from where he lay on the bed, claiming her mouth once more, her cry of surprise smothered by his lips. They broke apart, and for the first time since he had entered her chambers, they took a moment to look at each other as he rested his hands on either side of her head. The prim and proper Empress beloved by the people of the Isles was gone, replaced by a woman who looked up at him with fevered green eyes and dishevelled hair, her gaze clouded with a desire that made his own blood boil. He wondered what she saw as she looked up at him. The assassin? The heretic? Or a man, a simple man seeking release, just as he did not see the Empress in her now?

He decided it did not matter, and his marked hand tangled in her hair once more while the other snaked down between them to rip her undergarments off her.

It was made of fine lace and ripped apart with the slightest tug, thoroughly ruined but neither of them truly caring as his hand found her core, and he was rewarded with her closing her eyes and throwing her head back with a moan. He could feel her warmth around his fingers, her arousal as obvious as his. Suddenly she was staring at him with half-lidded eyes as he lowered himself to her, leaving feather-light kisses on the inside of her thighs and the place he knew she wanted him most.

“Daud – “

The whisper of his name was enough to tell him what she wanted. As he rid himself of the last of his clothes, she moved to the center of her bed, resting her head on the pillow under which the bone charm lay nestled, singing still. The glow of his mark had dimmed over the time he had been here – he could not tell whether it had been minutes or hours – but still shimmered faintly in the darkened room.

For the second time that night, Jessamine Kaldwin welcomed the assassin Daud into her embrace.

She shivered as he entered her, her eyes fluttering shut as he pushed into her wet heat slowly, releasing a shuddering breath only when he was finally sheathed inside of her. She opened her eyes then, staring up at him as her hands came to rest on the scarred planes of his back, silently urging him to continue. He complied, and set a torturously slow rhythm, taking pleasure in the impatient gasps that escaped the Empress’ lips. She must have felt his grin against her neck, for she lightly bit the tip of his ear as if in retribution, before taking him by surprise and rolling them over, the sudden movement sending electric jolts of pleasure through his body. She laughed breathily, grounding herself against him as she sat atop him like the queen she was, looking regal even as her bare breasts heaved with every breath she took. He raised a hand to her hip as she lifted herself off him before sinking down again, both silent but for the occasional moan or growl. Her rhythm grew faster, and he could no longer restrain himself, meeting her thrust for thrust and sitting up, drawing her flush against him, her hands grasping at nothing until they found his shoulders for support. The mark of the Outsider on the back of his hand seemed to blaze brighter and brighter with each moment that brought them closer to their peak, but Daud did not have the breath to curse the deity, his thoughts focused solely on the woman before him.

He could feel her release building, and her hands clenched into fists as she surrounded his neck with her arms, her eyes closed and her hair falling like a curtain of darkness around her face. With a twist of his hips and a moan on her part, they were back to their original position, their rhythm growing more and more erratic as they felt heat building inside of them, embers roaring to life, ready to consume them both. Their eyes met before their lips did, and he smothered her scream with his own mouth as her release finally came, the assassin following after a few more thrusts, feeling her nails carving bloody marks in the flesh of his forearms. He stayed still over her for a few moments before he chose to lay down next to her, placing his marked hand on her stomach and silencing his ragged breathing into the curls of her hair. It smelled of smoke and honey. He could feel her shifting in his arms, and he felt her press her lips to the Outsider’s mark again. Had she been anyone else, he might have been angry, but for now he was content to lay unmoving and let her do as she pleased. They were silent for a long time before she twisted to face him, and still they did not speak as she curled into his side. He allowed his fingers to trace idle patterns on the skin of her shoulder, and it seemed like an eternity before she finally spoke.

“The sun will rise in three hours,” she breathed. He could almost laugh at the banality of her statement after what they had just done, but he knew he had to be gone before the Tower woke.

“You will not find me here when it does,” he answered, and he felt her nod before her lips rose to meet his for a long while. He felt empty.

Daud was not a sentimental man. But after the Empress had fallen asleep against him, he was almost reluctant to slip out of the bed and dress in silence. Always his gaze would be drawn back to her sleeping form, gleaming in the moonlight that streamed in through the large window, his blood heating at the curve of her breasts and the memory of her skin, fresh as it was in his mind. As he pulled on his jacket and buckled his equipment back into place, he approached the bed again, putting on his gloves.

He ran his fingers through her raven hair before his hand swept under her pillow, plucking the bone charm from its resting place. The artifact sang its song as he put it away in a pouch at his belt. His eyes caressed the length of her body, and he allowed his fingers to brush the curve of her hip, the old leather whispering against her skin.

Then Daud turned away and left without looking back.

* * *

The sun had yet to rise when he reached his hideout, and he hid away in his office before anyone could question him. He felt the Whalers’ eyes on him as they busied themselves around the building, but not one of them dared to speak, except Billie Lurk. Barely 14, she was little more than a slip of a girl, but bolder and smarter than most.

“You’ve been away all night,” she said when he ventured from his office in search of food once the sun had risen. She looked as if she had been waiting a long time for him to emerge, sitting in front of his door with a book and an apple. “And locked in your office all day. Something on your mind?”

“It’s none of your business, girl,” he snarled in answer. “Go back to training.”

A frown twisted her features, but Billie stayed silent after that, and not one of the Whalers disturbed him for the rest of the day.

The sun had long since set when Daud finally straightened from the documents over which he had been bent for the last few hours. He rubbed his eyes and sighed wearily. For all the work he had tried to do today, not much had been done, for his thoughts had lingered far too long on the Empress, and he knew that, as soon as he fell asleep, the Outsider would taunt him once more.

He contemplated, for the briefest moment, the idea of throwing himself from the top of Kaldwin Bridge. It seemed inviting enough.

Daud worked late into the night, trying by all means to stay awake. But his eyes closed for what must have been a moment too long, and he was in the Void, a flight of stairs beckoning him forward. The assassin growled in frustration, but he knew by now that there was no way to escape those dreams. He climbed the stairs hastily, secretly hoping the Outsider would be done with him quickly tonight – he somehow doubted it would be the case.

The whale god was there when he reached the top, a smirk on his lips, his black eyes all-knowing. Daud wished he could gouge them out of his skull.

“Daud,” the Outsider said, linking his hands behind his back and leaning ever so slightly toward the assassin. “It has been a long time.”

The Knife of Dunwall refused to answer. This seemed to amuse the black-eyed ghost, and he chuckled darkly before speaking again.

“What you’ve done in Dunwall Tower may seem inconsequential to you – it may even seem a memory worth cherishing. But Daud - you have planted the seed of chaos, and nothing will ever be the same,” said he, smirking still.

“You made me do this!” the assassin snarled. “The mark – “

“ _Made_ you?” the Outsider cut him off. His smile seemed almost indulgent now. “Have you learned nothing, in all the years you have visited my shrines? I do not _make_ you do what you do. I merely… incite you. Your mark and her bone charm simply amplified a desire that was hidden deep inside of you, a longing for companionship that could only be filled by one walking a path as lonely as the other's. The assassin and the Empress. Ah, watching you in a few years will prove interesting again, I have no doubt.”

The Outsider laughed then, and Daud would have done almost anything to not hear the sound as it washed over him like the cold night tide.

“Oh yes, Daud, you have changed the course of history. I will be watching,” was all the Outsider said before Daud felt himself falling, falling, falling.

He woke at his desk, his back and neck riddled with pains. The sun was rising over Dunwall, and the assassin broke three knives that day, cursing the Outsider as he stabbed at lifeless dummies.

* * *

 

He did not return to Dunwall Tower after that, wary after all of the Outsider’s words.

But it was too late.

The Empress’ pregnancy was the talk of the city for months, but the Whalers went about their bloody business without a care. On his outings in the richer districts, Daud would hear rumours about the Empress and her secret lover; her Lord Protector’s name was on every lips, and although Daud had no doubt that Jessamine had indeed taken her bodyguard into her bed, he knew the truth. There was no mistaking the Outsider’s words.

The heiress was born in the first week of the month of Rain, and despite the initial frowns and disapproving whispers the situation had caused, the event was celebrated throughout the Empire, with the capital city of Dunwall donning more colours than Daud had ever seen its austere stone buildings wear. There were feasts and dances every evening for more than a week after the birth, and for three days there were fireworks over the Tower come nightfall. Daud watched it all from the shadows of the poor and rich districts, simply observing. High and low mingled in the streets to rejoice at the birth of the little girl the Empress had named Emily, their differences for once forgotten, and Daud cursed them all. The Whalers thought it was because the contracts had been scarce lately due to the festivities, when one and all was more busy drinking themselves into oblivion than plotting murder, but they knew nothing of the storm that raged inside their leader’s heart.

The thought of having a child was rather strange for Daud. He supposed he was bound to have fathered one or two in the years he had spent travelling the Isles, but those hypothetical children had always been but shadows and half-remembered dreams. But now he knew this little girl to be real. His blood ran through her veins, and the very memories of his time spent with her mother made him unable to dismiss the truth.

Daud, in a rare moment of madness that may have been caused by the many sleepless nights he had spent awake and remembering his night with the Empress, decided he had to see the babe for himself.

Two weeks after Emily’s birth, Daud infiltrated Dunwall Tower for what he hoped would be the last time. The hour was late and the night was dark, making it all the more easy for him to weave his way to the Empress’ quarters, once more walking the halls that were now etched into his memory.

He opened the door to her rooms quietly, hoping to find her asleep so that he would not have to face her, but his wish was not granted, as three candles still flickered on her bedside table, with her sitting up in her bed, awake and reading. He closed the door, more loudly than he usually would, to alert her to his presence, and her head snapped up, peering into the shadows where he lurked.

“Who’s there?”

“It’s me,” Daud said, stepping forward into the circle of light thrown by the candles, his empty hands held up before him. “It’s only me.”

“Daud.” The way she said his name brought back rather vivid memories he had thought buried deep, and he forced the thoughts away, standing at a respectable distance, just on the edge of the shadows that  engulfed the rest of the room. Her body still held obvious traces of her pregnancy, but she had not changed much apart from that, except for the fact that she somehow seemed plainer, different. It made no matter.

“Is she mine?” he was not one to tergiversate, and she seemed taken aback by his forwardness for a moment before she nodded.

“Are you certain?” his fist clenched at his side as she nodded again. Her face was a mask of smooth stone now, the face he thought she must use when speaking to her advisors and running the Empire. Jessamine was gone; the Empress had taken her place.

“Corvo thinks she is his,” she said. “I would rather he, and everyone else, believe that it is indeed the case.”

Daud nodded. He had no desire to claim the child as his, and she would be safer being the Lord Protector’s daughter than the Knife of Dunwall’s.

“I want to see her,” he said.

“Why?” the Empress asked, almost cold.Her entire body had stiffened, and her mistrust was plain in her eyes.

“So that I can leave both of you alone,” he answered simply, and saw her stony façade crumble. “Forever.”

She sighed before she smiled at him, a small, sad smile that clawed at a heart he had thought long since turned to stone. 

“Do you think he planned it?” she asked quietly as she rose, wrapping herself in a silken robe before stepping closer to him, until she was near enough to brush the mark she knew lay hidden under his glove with the tip of her fingers. She did not need to speak his name. She seemed warmer now that he had made it clear he meant no harm to her or their child. “Do you think he played us?”

“I believe he did,” he answered, allowing her to lace her fingers through his for half a heartbeat. “But for what purpose, I could not say.”

She relinquished her hold with a sigh and a nod, beckoning for him to follow as she made her way to a door that had not been there before. Inside, a cradle stood in the middle of the room, and toys lined the walls. The ceiling had been painted to look like the night sky, a rare touch of colour in the austere tower.

“Emily,” whispered the Empress as she stepped forward, gathering a small bundle in her arms before turning back to the assassin. He could see that the infant had a head of fine black hair, like her mother’s, but it was too early to tell which of them she would resemble most, although Daud hoped that, for her sake, she would take more after her mother than after him, so that none may question her parentage. He could feel his mark hiss and burn as he brushed a finger across the babe’s forehead, and Jessamine’s eyes on him as he fetched from his belt the bone charm he had taken all those months ago. She placed Emily back in the cradle, and he put the talisman next to his daughter’s head, its singing growing quieter until it was nothing more than a whisper. Daud felt Jessamine moving to stand beside him, both staring down at their daughter and the bone charm that glimmered faintly in the darkness.

“I don’t know what the Outsider wants, what his goal was by bringing us together, or what her fate will be,” he told her without lifting his eyes. “I’ve prayed at his shrines and stared into his eyes, yet I am no closer to an answer. All I know is that we are but toys for him to do with as he pleases, and that despite everything, this,” he tapped the ancient artifact lightly with the tip of a finger, “will protect her better than the Overseers and their Strictures can.”

He looked at her then, and she met his eyes. They stood unmoving for a long while before she heaved a quiet sigh, picking up the bone charm from the cradle and pressing it to her chest. They were strangers once more.

“Goodbye, Daud.”

“Goodbye, Jessamine,” he allowed himself to taste her name, if only once in his life.

He left her standing there in the darkened room, cradling a bone charm that sang a mournful song.

Daud would not return to Dunwall Tower for ten years.


	3. Heart of Glass

It was easy to accept the job.

The reward was more than handsome, and Burrows promised complete immunity on the off-chance they should be discovered. It should have been easy. It shouldn’t have mattered.

In the weeks leading up to the assassination, Daud refused to think about what had transpired between them what seemed to be a lifetime ago. They were naught to each other. Despite his efforts, his mind often drifted toward the _girl_. It was the month of Earth now; she was yet to celebrate her tenth birthday. Daud’s thoughts had not often dwelled on his daughter these past ten years. Why should they do so now?

 _Because you’re going to kill her mother,_ a voice inside him whispered when his thoughts lingered too long. _Because you’re going to take away everything she holds dear._

It shouldn’t have mattered.

The Rat Plague was burning through the city. He needed all the money he could get to keep his Whalers safe. This was no different. This was business.

Only when it was too late did Daud begin to doubt.

He remembered a time, long ago, when he thought he could never harm her.

Now, older, stronger, wiser, he knew that every life had its price. Even that of Jessamine Kaldwin, Empress of the Isles and mother to his child.

He watched from afar as his Whalers battled the Lord Protector, bristling with every men the bodyguard’s blade felled. This was no good. He would have to do it himself.

“Come on, Billie, let’s go,” he said to the young woman at his side. She nodded, and they both blinked to the gazebo, his second-in-command immediately neutralizing the Lord Protector with her Pull power as he stalked closer to the Empress, extending a hand toward Emily.

“Get away from her!” Jessamine cried, placing herself between him and the girl. Their eyes met, and he saw a spark of recognition in her eyes. He had changed since they had last seen each other, and so had she, but he knew she would not have forgotten him so easily. He saw his name bloom on her lips, but he could not allow her to speak, lest he lose all his resolve. He backhanded her, and she spun away with a gasp, her back colliding roughly with the stone balustrade of the gazebo. She looked up at him as he bore down upon her, his hand pressing harshly into her shoulder to keep her still.

“Mommy!”

 _Why?_ Asked her eyes. _Why? Why why why why why why why –_

 _No. Not the eyes,_ was all he thought as he raised his blade. _Don’t look at me. Not the eyes._

He was almost relieved when his sword pierced her and her eyes slammed shut, the wet sound of tearing flesh so loud he could hear nothing else for a split second.

He saw Billie grabbing Emily, but already the Void was engulfing everything. He knew the Outsider had been watching.

There was a hole in the world, but for once the Void was not the cause.

“Oh, Daud,” the Outsider said, appearing in a flourish of dust and smoke that smelled of old bones and seawater. “I’ll be honest with you: I never would have thought you would do it.”

The Outsider closed his eyes and laughed. It reminded the assassin of nails raking against steel and birds dying in the woods.

“After all these years, you’ve got my interest again. Killing the Empress, the mother of your child, and kidnapping your daughter to deliver her into the hands of those who would do her nothing but harm? A most intriguing choice, Daud. Because you _did_ have a choice, oh, indeed. I saw you warning the Empress of the plot against her, and I can tell you that she would have believed and rewarded you. How different the world would have been. But you have chosen a different path, the only path you know how to take, I believe.”

The smirk on the Outsider’s lips seemed more sinister than ever.

“Entertain me, Daud.”

And suddenly he was back at the tower, with his blade still slick with the Empress’ blood, blinking away from the still corpse that had been Jessamine Kaldwin with their daughter in his arms, their daughter who was fighting, biting, kicking, but not crying, not yet, no, looking up at him with eyes as black and hard as two chips of dark stone and oh so like his, full of rage and hatred and sadness.

Something inside Daud cracked apart, and for the first time in twenty years he felt his heart bleed true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was fun to write, and I hope you had fun reading it as well. Please leave a note telling me what you liked or didn't like, it can only help me!


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